Roads
by Jade Evangeline
Summary: Post RE 5. Chris/Sheva. As the BSAA endeavors upon their final journey to destroy Wesker and his legacy, two BSAA agents try to fight the demons of their past and pursue a complicated relationship with each other. Chapter Five.
1. Chapter 1: Nowhere Warm

Chapter One:

Nowhere Warm

A/N: So I love Sheva and Chris and wanted to write some fanfiction on my own. This is the first chapter on many and it's a bit long. It's kind of a dark and very character driven. You cant survive this kind of stuff without being a little damaged in real life and I wanted to explore that with a little action and romance thrown in the mix. Review and let me know what you think.

Rating: M for language, violence, dark themes and sexual situations

Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil.

* * *

It was over. The sun was beating on her back and her muscles ached, but it was finally over. She glanced at the man opposite her, his features furrowed in concentration, in dramatic realization that the battle that he started years ago, had finally come to an end. She admired him in a way; they were both very alike him and Sheva. Tough and taut, jaded and controlled. If loneliness of a childhood forgotten had taught her anything, it was how to guard her emotions; it was important to always retain some semblances of control, even when the world was shattering around you. Even when your life was slipping through your fingers like angry tears sizzling as they dissolve below the African sun.

There were no words between any of them; at this point what was there left to say? Jill had been kidnapped and forced to do god knows what and here the four of them sat, survivors of a trip to a hell that people only encountered in the darkest most remote depths of their inner minds. They had survived and for the moment, that was all that mattered.

Sheva shifted, the jingling of metal breaking all of them from their mental stupors. Her shoulders ached and her neck was so stiff she felt as though she would never be able to move it properly again. Wesker had thrown her about plenty of times during their encounters. Chris had seemed too focused on Jill to notice that she didn't recover as quickly as him, that she didn't have a personal stake in the scheme of things and that she was getting her ass kicked around because he did.

She wasn't bitter about it…what was there to be bitter about? As soon as she reached the base in Cape Town, all of this would be over. The two of them would be back in America soon enough and they would never see each other again. She would be a lingering shadow in their psyche, a brief memory in a sea of thoughts until, like so many others from their pasts she would be nobody…a lingering specter…a fading ghost.

She arched again and this time caught the eye of her companion who had been watching her for god knew how long. She was lost in an abyss of thoughts, self depreciation…it was something she was good at. She turned away from him quickly her eyes falling upon the sparkling metal that lay idly in her lap. The silver burned in her hand as she touched it, a staunch reminder of all she had lost today, of what she had to return to. After all, it was her comrades that died in this battle, not his, not theirs.

Neither Chris nor Jill seemed to realize that she had grown up with these men; she really was the little sister of the team. They had all looked out for each other; they were a working unit, troubled pasts and hazy futures, they were a family. And they had been lost. Her eyes stung, the sun was too fucking bright and her back was killing her and Chris kept looking at her with this sorry look on his face. She wasn't a doll she wouldn't fucking fall apart. At least not here. At least not in front of_ him_.

"Are you okay?" he asked, looking at her, his eyes, blue and crystal clear and concerned as hell.

She smiled, one of those fake smiles that didn't reach the eyes. She had been smiling like that since her parents died. "Yeah, tired is all," she mumbled, truly looking at him for the first time since they began their flight home. He looked exactly like she felt. "You?"

He shrugged….No, he wasn't okay. He hadn't been okay since all of this shit started. He was exhausted and uneasy, he could look into Jill's face and see that she was mentally fucked from whatever Wesker did to her. Hell he'd probably be fucked too if he spent damn near two years with that monster. And Sheva, she was quiet and pensive and pissed about something and he felt guilty as hell for dragging her down with him in what was _his_ fight. It was the hardest war he had ever fought and they both had battle scars to prove it. Health sprays can only go so far.

She chuckled darkly. "For someone who just took out his arch nemesis, you don't look too thrilled. You should be celebrating," she said, leaning against the wall and arching her back for the millionth time.

"Yeah, I suppose I should be," he said, glancing at Jill who was staring solemnly out the window. She hadn't said a word since they took off. "I've been doing this for a long time, and I can't seem to shake the feeling that this isn't over."

"You don't think Wesker's dead?" asked Sheva, her voice rising with genuine shock and curiosity. They launched two rockets straight at his head…he also happened to be in a literal lake of fire, surrounded to the waist by liquid flame. Who in the hell could survive that?

"You'd be surprised what he's survived," Chris said stoically reading her mind. "I don't know. Maybe it's just paranoid wishful thinking."

Her eyebrow arched. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Chris glanced at Jill, his gaze unwavering, drawing in her attention but she remained still, staring out the helicopter window with the same icy unwavering stare. _What the hell did it mean?_ It meant he had a sucky fucking life, that's what. Ten years. For ten years he devoted his life to finding Wesker. He jeopardized his relationship with his sister, he avoided normal relationships, and he hadn't had a woman in an embarrassingly long time. His revenge, his all consuming need to hunt down Wesker and obliterate every resonating mark he left on this earth was the only true companion he had. It had been with him since the first incident in the Arklay Mountains, and a decade later, its dark presence remains, even at the end of the road, even with mental peace in sight, that nagging feeling was still there. Until he had Wesker's bloody head on a platter, it would always be there. Lingering. Waiting.

"It's complicated," he said. There was no point getting into it. She wouldn't understand anyway. She was young, inexperienced, she didn't know lustful hatred as he did and she had only looked true evil in the face a few times in her life. He had seen it every night for the past ten years in his dreams.

Chris didn't want to talk to her about it. That was fine. She wasn't sure if she wanted to hear about it anyway. She didn't need to hear anything else that would keep her thoughts lingering on him after today. She leaned back again, rubbing her shoulder, pressing on the fierce bruise that was staining her honey colored flesh purple. She grinned to herself, that would be the first of many and by tomorrow morning she surmised that she would be black and blue all over. As she moved she heard that jingle again, the dog tags of her dead comrades mocking her, rubbing and rustling together like bodies in heat.

Chris glanced at the silver necklaces in her lap and felt another pang of guilt. Sure their deaths weren't his fault in the least, but they were still dead, still dead because he couldn't take out that bastard sooner and here was his twenty three year old companion silently mourning the loss.

His eyes fell to his former partner and his current. They were different in the most obvious of ways. But in some ways, Sheva reminded him of Jill and vice versa. They were loyal to the end, strong, skilled, and he admired the hell out of them both. He smiled at the quiet blonde; it was good to have her back. Damaged, beaten, whatever… it was just good to have her back with him. It was one less thing that he had to regret. Jill was back, Sheva and Josh were safe, Uroburos was gone and for now, that had to be enough.

* * *

It was strange to be back, to have so many eyes upon them as they walked from the eerily quiet helipad to the white doors that stretched across the distance before them. For the first time in a while, they weren't fearing for their lives, they weren't surrounded by dilapidated buildings and the sounds of mysterious of war cries. They were back within the strong grips of a distant reality that for moments at a time Sheva had thought they would never see again.

She was walking in front of him clutching her dog tags and her shoulder and limping to the door, anxious to get out of the heat and he was behind her, holding Jill around the shoulders as the two walked toward the pristine double doors that led them to the Southern BSAA HQ facility. As Sheva stepped inside, a cool rush of the air conditioning blew against her and she inhaled sharply. She was home, she was home and it was really finally over. She felt the eyes on her from every angle, she was smelly and sweaty and covered in dried blood and in her hand jangled the only remains of her fellow agents. She stopped quickly, glancing behind to see Chris and Jill entering together, his arms wrapped firmly around her shoulders. He was doing it to keep the blonde from collapsing and Sheva knew that, but there was a small part of her that was filled with a gentle pang of jealousy. All the more reason she needed to say goodbye, to take a shower and move on and purge the thought of Chris Redfield and Jill Valentine from her mind. Maybe it was time to take her first vacation since she started at the Africa branch. She wanted to get off this god damn continent…maybe go to Australia. That seemed far enough.

She stood tall as a set of double doors opened before her and a man dressed in a black suit approached the four of them. It was Charles DeBroe, director of the South African branch and the head commanding officer. She went through the motions, saluting and all before he approached her specifically, a solemn look in his eye. She knew what he wanted. She raised a shaky arm and dropped the barrage of chains into his hand. As soon as the metal dropped from her palm to his, she felt a release, she felt the weight of carrying the legacy of her peers to safety was over. She could breathe. She was alive and she could breathe and it was over.

"Thank you, Miss Alomar, Mr. Redfield," said Charles, clutching the chains delicately knowing exactly what they meant. He glanced at the blonde woman and signaled for medics to be called. Her condition could only be described as…grim.

"Of course, there must be an extensive debriefing, but before that, you have visitors Mr. Redfield," said Charles, head tilting to the side as another different set of doors opened and several familiar faces burst through.

Chris was caught by surprise as they approached, not fully expecting all of them to be here. Claire yes, but not all of them. She enveloped him roughly, his free arm coming around to hug her. If Sheva hadn't read his file, she wouldn't have thought it was Claire that was his sister. Rebecca looked more like him than anything, but the red head who had enveloped Valentine, looked nothing like Chris in the least. Her eyes fell upon more familiar faces, they were BSAA agents after all and they came trickling in one by one. Leon S. Kennedy, Rebecca Chambers, Carlos Olivera, the dream team was actually here for a reason unknown. They should have been called the fabulous five, all new BSAA agents knew them, they were forced to study their files, they were some of the sole survivors of the Racoon City Incident, they were trained warriors, they were the best.

Her eyes fell to Josh and silent realization washed over them both. They were all that was left from their branch. But at least they had each other.

"May I speak with you two?" asked Charles, beckoning them follow him. They had much to discuss.

* * *

Jill was leaning against the wall speaking in hushed whispers to Rebecca and Carlos as Chris rested in a chair near his sister and Leon.

"So where is she?" asked Claire, her eyes bright.

"Where's who?" Chris asked, rubbing his neck tiredly.

"Sheva. I want to meet the girl that saved my brothers ass," she said playfully tapping him gently on the shoulder.

"I don't know, she disappeared a while ago," Chris said, glancing around fervently realizing that she hadn't returned.

"Look I know you have to write an incident report that we'll no doubt be forced to read," began Carlos as he walked toward Chris, "but what the hell happened out there?"

Chris sat down; this would be a long story.

* * *

It was hot, the water was hot and steady and it burned her skin. She closed her eyes as the stream of water ran past her breasts, down her taught stomach and into the short brown circles that lay atop her pelvis before dripping beneath her onto the shower floor. The bottom of the basin was so dirty it was almost black, between blood, dirt, sweat and muck from the slimy Uroburos tentacles, she was surprised that she was able to actually get relatively clean. She ran her fingers over the brown locks that reached her mid back, smoothing the conditioner out of her air as she let the water run down the valley between her breasts.

She wasn't ready…transferring to America wasn't exactly what she had in mind for a vacation. Moving there, it would certainly make things unnecessarily complicated. But she couldn't exactly divulge that to her superior…._yes sir, I can't go to the States because I'm secretly lusting for my American comrade, you know Chris, could I maybe go back to Europe instead?_ She didn't want to be one of those idiot girls she saw on TV, pining for men that didn't belong to her and that were frankly way out of her league. Chris Redfield was a fucking entity, an anti bioterrorism legend, and she was a kid compared to him. She chuckled to herself. She was younger than his little sister. And he had Jill….she wasn't an idiot, he was obsessed with finding her…."Partners my ass."

He searched for her brown locks, but she was swallowed up by the sea of people that were filling out of the meeting hall they had just left. He hadn't seen her since they landed and he was anxious to have a word, to thank her, to see if she were okay, to properly say goodbye. He finally found her and ended up walking in her shadow. He reached out and touched her elbow, drawing her attention and turning her around.

She spun to see who was grabbing her and was surprised that it was her former companion. He was a little taken aback by her appearance. She looked different. Her hair was down, and she had make up on and her face was clean and she looked…nice.

Nice didn't quite describe it but saying what he was really thinking, it wouldn't be exactly professional. She smiled at him. "I didn't expect to see you still lingering about," she said, looking up at him, her hazel eyes even prettier in this light. Maybe because she wasn't squinting, maybe it was because they weren't filled with fear.

"Yeah, we won't be here for long," he said honestly. His flight left tomorrow morning. "I just…you didn't seem too surprised in there when DeBroe said the West African branch was merging with the east for the time being considering…" Considering most of the agents from the West were dead.

"I already knew," she said truthfully. "DeBroe told me when I got back."

"So what does that mean for you?" he asked, falling in step behind her as they walked to no place in particular.

"It means I'm being transferred."

His eyebrows arched. "Do you know where?"

She chuckled. "North America."

He stopped dead in his tracks. "Really?"

"Really." Her voice was monotone, stoic. Was he upset? She couldn't tell. Why would he be? If anything…

"How do you feel about that?" he asked, stopping and crossing his arms against his broad chest.

His biceps flexed and she felt like a fucking idiot for ogling at his arms like an ignorant pratt. "Orders are orders."

He laughed, a hearty laugh, one that she hadn't heard from him. Ever. It was nice. "You don't seem too thrilled about it. America's not that bad, you know."

"I know," she said sheepishly. "It's not that, it's just moving has all these….implications."

Realization washed over his face. "Leaving someone important behind?" he asked. It was pretty obvious even to her what he was asking. Why would he even care?

"God, no, nothing like that."

His eyes darkened for a moment and he wondered if she were telling the truth, why would she lie? She had nothing to hide from him. They were partners, friend's maybe and that was it.

"But with Tricell and WilPharma based in the states and the knowledge that they may be working with Umbrella, DeBroe says they want a consort of agents tracking them that have been personally involved. So he inducted me into your elusive club," she said, grinning up at him.

"Copy that. Well, welcome to the team, it'll be good to have you," he said, the look he was giving her completely genuine.

It was time he left for bed. She was looking up at him with a glimmer in her eyes and her lips were parted and her skin was glowing under the lights and she was, well she was something that he couldn't have. Part of him would have been glad to see her go. He knew during the first hours of their missions he had been cold and stoic and pissy and it was because…well it was because she was pretty and the last thing he needed was to get distracted by her... _curves_. But the knowledge that he would be seeing her every day for only god knew how long… it was troubling. Not that he wasn't good at controlling his urges, but this, whatever was budding for her, it was something far more than an urge. And he wasn't quite ready to explore that.

"Thanks," she said, brushing her bouncy strands behind her shoulder. "I'll see you bright and early then."

She waved gently and he watched her go, her backside swaying gracefully as she walked away. For a woman that had a mean right hook and could wield a weapon like the best of them she was surprisingly elegant. She was a chameleon of sorts, metamorphosing overnight, changing from a swooping vulture to a graceful crane.

"She's too young," he told himself, running his fingers through his hair before turning away and leaving. She was too young and he was too old and twisted. She was his partner and they had a job to do. Tricell and WilPharma were behind Uroburos in some way and they would find out how. Maybe he would finally get some closure at the end of this fight. Maybe then, he could finally move on and have a chance at life.


	2. Chapter 2: Lovely Bones

* * *

Chapter 2

Lovely Bones

A/N: Thanks for the reviews I got. Please continue to let me know how you like my story. Some of the references in this chapter have to do with events that happened in the Umbrella Chronicles.

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil.

* * *

The stars were sparkling like little crystal suns in the distance. They seemed brighter and closer than usual. It's funny, the things you take for granted before a near death experience and the things you treasure after. The air was cool and crisp and she inhaled sharply as a breeze swept past her skin, blowing the brown curls that shaped her face. It was pretty obvious why she was out here, slowly waiting as the darkness became dawn.

She couldn't sleep.

She kept seeing all their faces, soulless eyes and mangled bodies. Innards strewn and thrown about, the smell of blood and the buzzing sounds of flies nesting in rotting flesh, laying their eggs against the warmth of hanging organs. She hadn't expected to meet any company out here on the rooftop of the BSAA temporary housing complex and froze in response as she heard quiet footsteps approach her from behind.

Chris wondered what had brought her out here, especially at this time of night. The heavens were twinkling and the air was cool and she was standing at the edge of the ledge, her arms crossed against her chest, the airy fabric of her robe blowing in the breeze.

"Can't sleep?" he asked, coming up short behind her.

"No." The voice was familiar; somehow he managed to be gruff and gentle all at once. "Can I ask you a question?" she asked, turning to face him.

"Sure." Her hair was messily askew, large barrel curls blowing wherever the wind took them; she looked dazed with sleep, her lips resting in a thoughtful pout. And suddenly, he felt that urge again. The urge to reach out and touch her face, to let his lips brush against hers.

"When do the nightmares stop?" her voice was barely audible and he recalled correctly that it cracked as she spoke to him.

He sighed. How could he look into those perfect eyes and tell her that they never stopped, that memories from Raccoon City, from their suicide mission in the Arklay Mountains, that none of it truly ever went away. "Never," he said honestly. She was a big girl and could handle the unfortunate truth of the matter.

She smirked. "I figured as much."

"It gets easier, Sheva."

"Does it?" She asked, eyeing him wearily. From the haunted look on his face, it seemed like it never got easier for him.

He shrugged. Maybe not. After all, he hadn't stopped fighting, none of them had. It wasn't easier, but it was something that he had come to accept: that these memories would be with him for the entirety of his life and he would die with the images of his horrific adventures etched into his mind.

"What are you doing up this late?"

"Jill was…she couldn't sleep."

Made sense. His world seemed to revolve around Jill. Even to herself her thoughts were bitter. The woman had survived the most horrendous experience of her life and Sheva was mentally cursing her. "How is she?"

"How would you be?"

She didn't answer. He wasn't being a smart ass and she knew it. It was one of those rhetorical questions that you ask when you don't know what else to say. "She won't tell me anything," he said, after a moment's pause. "She won't tell me a god damn thing. She just keeps rambling about how she misses the States and that she hasn't had ice cream and bullshit like that because she doesn't want to tell me the truth."

Sheva glanced up at his face and could see the worried expression hidden behind his eyes. He cared about his partner so much and it was _so_ hard for her not to be envious. She searched for the right words to say, but mused that _I'm sure she'll be fine_ just wouldn't cut it.

It was silent between the two of them for several moments as they watched the hustle and bustle of the early morning bring the city to life. They weren't exactly connecting on a spiritual level, but it was nice enough to just having him standing so near to her.

"What about Josh?"

"What?" she was caught by surprise by his question. _What about Josh?_

"Is he coming with you?"

"No, DeBroe offered, but he chose to stay here, help with the clean up. We have intel officers looking into just how far the infection spread so that they can…" she didn't need to finish, he knew what she was referring to. So they could destroy all the remnants of Uroburos, including killing all of the infected.

"Well let's hope they can contain the virus before more drastic measures need to be taken." They both knew what he was referring to. The UN would have a fit if they launched a missile over a heavily populated area of Africa in a response to the threat. Other measures would be taken before that, even if it meant sending another troupe into the heart of it, just to clean up this mess. A part of her was glad she was going to America; she never wanted to see Kijuju again.

Silence fell over them once more. So many emotions were swirling within her. She felt like a thirteen year old girl again, hanging around her crush. That's what this was, puppy love. He was older than her and had a mature, sexy air about him and he was strong and cocky and mysterious and she found it extremely attractive. She wanted to know what he tasted like.

"What's so funny?" he asked. She turned a bright red color when she realized that her mental musings had forced upon her face the goofiest expression she had probably ever made.

"Nothing," she said quickly, tucking her hair behind her ear and looking down to the ground.

Chris smirked, whatever she was thinking about had just embarrassed the hell out of her and he remotely wondered if it had anything to do with him.

"We should get to bed, you know. Our flight leaves pretty early tomorrow morning," he said, scratching his ear and looking her direction.

She nodded and briefly pondered on whether he kept his stubble because it made him looked ruggedly sexy or if he was too lazy to shave every day. She went with the former. She liked to think that Chris knew exactly what he was doing, that he was a man of few words that was always in control.

She was lost in her thoughts before she realized that he was walking away, back towards the confines of HQ. "You coming?" he asked, pausing and glancing back at her.

"In a bit."

"Don't stay out too late, partner."

"I won't," she said watching as his hulking mass retreated into the distance.

* * *

This was going to be longest plane ride ever. If twenty hours wasn't enough, it didn't help that she was stuck sitting next to Chris. What the hell would they talk about for twenty hours? Even worse, she kept wondering if he was disappointed that he wasn't lucky enough to get a seat next to Jill, or his sister or even that Kennedy guy. It was like fate was pushing them together in some sickly, twistedly dark love story.

She frowned as she dragged her carry-on behind her, the tired passengers and crowding luggage causing her to step and sway about. She finally reached her row, two cozy chairs in the middle of the plane before reaching down and grabbing her bag. It was heavy and her arms were sore from the previous few days and she was literally struggling to place it in the overhead compartment when she felt her back rub against something hard and warm. She turned her neck to see what invisible wall she had found herself running into when she felt his hands cover her own and shove her bag so that it was perfectly placed in the bin above her. She looked up at him thankfully as he grinned at her in response.

He was hard and warm and toned all over and he smelled really good.

This was going to be a long fucking ride that was for sure.

"Thanks," she said, a hint of embarrassment in her voice.

"No worries," he said, hoisting his own bag so that it sat next to hers.

She tucked another strand of hair behind her ear. "Do you want the window?"

"No, you can have it."

She slid into her seat carefully before leaning against the comfortable chair and resting her head against the rest. He sat next to her and she got another taste of his scent and it was dizzying. She was stuck between a wall and a very attractive man and she was affectively trapped.

To him she looked awkward and uncomfortable and he was pretty amused by all the emotions playing on her face. He had learned long ago never to show his deck of cards to anyone, he had a good poker face, and whether he was feeling awkward or excited Sheva would never know. He wasn't exactly an open book.

"Nervous about the flight?" he asked. She looked up at him and saw a mischievous sparkle in his eye and she could have sworn that he _knew_ how she felt. He knew how she felt and he was going to fuck with her head about it.

She grunted an incoherent response before grabbing an in flight publication and began shuffling through it, not really paying any mind to the senseless drivel in the Sky Mall Magazine.

God, she was cute. She was flabbergasted and huffy and it was pretty clear that she was uncomfortable and it was fucking cute. He smiled to himself as the one of stewardess' passed by him, eyeing him and his body appreciatively. He was thirty five and he still had it.

"This is going to be the longest flight ever," said Jill, tossing her carry-on into the space above her, Carlos following suit behind her.

Chris chuckled. From what he remembered, Carlos annoyed the shit out of her and it was funny to see Jill "calm as the sea" Valentine try to keep from strangling Olivera.

"It'll be the perfect time for you and I to reconnect, babe," he said, sitting next to Jill and winking.

Sheva glanced behind her as she waited for Chris to make some sort of response. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought that Carlos was making a play at Jill. Which was kind of weird considering she had technically been dead for two years and that none of them, not even Chris, knew the details of what had transpired between her, Excella and Wesker.

The plane began to quiet as Claire and Rebecca took their seats opposite Chris and Sheva and Leon opposite Carlos and Jill. Chris was about to make a smart ass comment on how Leon always ended up alone when a very pretty red head sat down next to Leon and offered him the most dazzling smile. Some guys had all the luck. He glanced to his left, observing Sheva silently before leaning back against the head rest.

Then again, he was pretty lucky too.

* * *

They were at forty thousand feet now; the grey clouds had blocked their vision of the world below as they continued their trek back to the waiting arms of downtown Los Angeles. The relentless banter between old friends had ceased hours ago as the sky darkened with night. Most of the planes inhabitants had fallen into the lulling embrace of a deep sleep, but at least one man remained alert. Chris sat quietly, listening to the gentle humming of the plane as they sped through the clouds. His mind was restless; with every blink of his blue eyes he would see scenes of his past adventure flashing through his mind. It made him uneasy. _Wesker was dead. He had to be. _It was haunting to know that the man he had tailed for almost a decade was still alive. And if he were, Chris feared for the worst; that Wesker would come after everyone involved in his attempted murder, Chris, Jill, Claire…Sheva. He looked to his left and focused on the tufts of hair that were falling over his shoulder. She had long ago made his arm her pillow and was sleeping soundly beside him, her chest rising and falling, like calm waves on a starless night.

He wondered when was the last time he had been so physically close to anyone. Sure, there was the hug from Claire now and again, but that's not what he meant. There was a vulnerability in her actions, a trust in her eyes when she looked up at him. Here she lay against him, claiming her hold over him once again with the most simple of touches.

As if on cue she moved against him, pushing her head further up his shoulder and into his neck. Her hair smelled clean and floral, like lavender, and her skin, like gossamer silk, was so soft. It was almost as though she was trying to snuggle with him. If circumstances were different he would have considered resting his head against her own and emptying his mind of thoughts, falling into a world of restless dreams like his companions. But he couldn't warm up to her, at least not in that way, at least not now. He had to find out if Wesker was truly gone. Only then could he really even consider giving himself to her.

The clouds cleared for a moment, and from below he could see the towering buildings and sparkling lights, so miniscule from this height. His eyes became heavy as he stared out the window and try as he may, he couldn't fight the strong tendrils of slumber that pulled and tugged at him, until his mind went blank and he slept.

* * *

A cool California wind swept through the weary agents as they made their way to two black SUVs that sat parked beside the loading zone at one of the many terminals of the Los Angeles International Airport. The smell of smog and cigarettes invaded his mind; a sweet, sickly odor that confirmed that he was truly home. It was so strange to have just been trekking through a jungle, lush, green and alive and to then be pressed back into a different world, a labyrinth of street signs and traffic lights.

Chris immediately went to the first vehicle and wasn't surprised when he saw a familiar face, his eyes twinkling behind a pair of Rayban's that were resting against his nose.

"So you made it back, Redman," said the brunette, smiling at his companion.

"Don't call me that, Drew," responded Chris, tossing his bags into the trunk and coming around to the passenger side.

"Haven't changed a bit, I see," he replied, his eyes watching as many familiar faces threw their luggage into the back and rounded the corners toward the sides of the car. He was intrigued by one face he didn't recognize. "Brought back a souvenir?"

Chris glanced in the side mirror as Sheva climbed into the car and slid down until she was sitting directly behind Drew. The brunette quickly removed the glasses and did a quick spot check of his teeth before turning around and greeting her with a warm smile. "I wouldn't have thought Chris would have brought a native back here to the good old U.S. of A."

She smirked. "Neither did I," Sheva replied honestly, catching the sour expression on Chris' face but ignoring it.

"Drew, it's a pleasure."

"Sheva," she replied, buckling her seatbelt and resting head against the plush seat. It was a few more minutes until both of their cars were filled and they departed for the short ride home.

Chris was amused as he watched her facial expressions vary from wonder to shock as she stared out of the window, ogling the buildings, the people, drinking in with her eyes every image that she could. Sheva had never been to California before and wasn't too familiar with many US cities. Her job had taken her to much more…exotic locales. She had tracked leads into the outback of Australia, fought off starvation amongst the fauna of Cambodia and even chased a suspect down the busy streets of Mumbai, but she had never had a reason to come to the states, let alone sunny southern California.

It wasn't as glamorous as some outsiders thought. It was crowded and dirty and some of the people, well they left a lot to be desired. But despite the outward appearance there was an air of excitement that assaulted her senses as they drew nearer to the BSAA office in the heart of the City of Angels. But despite all of the cities imperfections, there was a sense of excitement in the air, an electric shock of yearning, of anticipation that was seeping into every inch of her person. The last time she had felt this way, she was back in London, stepping out of King's Crossing and onto the populated streets. It was a feeling that could only be achieved in the city. For the first time in a long time, she felt alive.

* * *

Their arrival to the BSAA branch was uneventful. She had been looking at Union Station, fascinated as the Metro Trains zipped out and about, carrying hurried passengers that been lively since daybreak. Suddenly the SUV came to a screeching halt, their things were being unloaded and they were being ushered inside the double doors. She had looked up momentarily right before she was swallowed into the building. The façade made of blue glass seemed to reflect a light that appeared unearthly and from what she could see, there was no logo announcing the presence of a government branch amongst the ocean of corporations in the heart of LA. It seemed like another nameless edifice, another normality in a seascape of brick and mortar.

The walls were white and pristine, so different from the homely South Africa branch. Leave it to the USA to up the ante. She felt as though she were in the pentagon, and chuckled when she realized she was giving herself more importance that was required for her job. She was a cop, a contract killer, an ace with a glock. Nothing more.

Before she knew it, she was sitting behind a long silver table in a room mixed with white and gray, a blue tinge to the walls, the air suffocating with stoicism and importance. She found herself sandwiched in between Chris and Drew, Jill's empty eyes meeting hers from across the way. A door to her right opened as agents of varying ages and ethnicities filed into the room. She had arrived; it was always known that the USA had the best agents; most of them like Chris were "Special Agents." To her the special stood for: I'm so fucked by what I've seen that I'm almost insane with a hunger for revenge, I've got no family, no friends and I'm driven by the predatory needs to right the wrongs done by others. An almost all consuming need to usher the world into an era peace. Where monsters like Wesker stayed under the bed where they belonged.

"Chris, good to have you back," said an older man who leaned over to shake the hand of her counterpart. He looked like he could be in his fifties. There was an authoritative air about him; he seemed both sweet and cunning at the same time. He had been one of those _special_ agents once upon a time too. Now he was the commanding director of the BSAA North America.

"You must be Sheva," he said, extending his hand to hers. She took it, her eyes scanning his fingers and falling upon the white stretch of skin on the left finger of his left hand. She surmised he had been married once upon a time, and was probably happy too. She wondered what had happened to his wife. In their line of work things always ended bloody or sad; that was an absolute.

"It's a pleasure, Mr. Burton."

"Call me Barry," he said, relinquishing his grip. "Makes me feel old."

"You are old," said Carlos, sweeping his hand across his forehead.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm an old mother fucker who could still kick your ass," said Barry, winking at Sheva as she smiled at their antics. "We'll deal with pleasantries tomorrow, but we've got business to attend to." The lights dimmed as a projection screen lowered on the west side of the room. Act one, scene one, her mission had begun.

"This," said Barry, referring to the woman that popped up on the screen, "was Excella Gionne, she became a bioweapon and was killed by Chris and Sheva." Barry sneered as various catcalls erupted from some of the male agents she hadn't been introduced to. "We have reason to believe that before her death she sent a large shipment via unnamed persons to an abandoned Umbrella base in Russia. We have reason to believe that there may be unused portions of Uroburos here that are going to be sold on the black market by some bio weapons dealers, friends of the late Ricardo Irving**. **Agents from the European branch have been monitoring the base since and it appears to be inactive. We're sending out a team tomorrow to Russia to investigate the base and bring back any traces of Uroburos."

"You want us to bring Uroburos here? To the United States?" asked Jill, her eyes wide with shock. "We should just destroy it."

"We can't, we have other orders," said Leon, glancing up from the document he was reading.

"How high up are these orders coming from?" asked Chris, looking toward his friend.

"It's an executive order. The highest you can get," he replied, closing the manila folder and peering at his comrades. Being in direct consultation with the President did have its downsides. He always seemed to be the harbinger of bad news.

"Why the hell would they want us bringing that back to the US?" asked Jill, furious. They had no idea, no clue exactly what Uroburos was like. She had had that thing growing, writhing on her chest for an eternity. They had no idea what it was like to succumb completely to someone else's control. To be victim to their wants and desires, knowing full well what you were doing and trying desperately to stop them.

Chris could see the pain in her eyes and had to willfully keep himself from interrupting the meeting so she could take a break. Jill would kill him for that if he tried.

"Scientists are going to do a full report on structure and bio-chemical breakdown of Uroburos. Analyze its weaknesses just in case we're too late to stop it from being spread," said Leon, his voice tired. He wasn't in the mood to argue.

Barry cleared his throat. "We have a mission," he said to the others. "We may not like the outcome but we have a job to do. I want Alpha and Bravo team ready for action by tomorrow morning, at 800 hours. Delta team will remain on standby at a base in the Ukraine if we need another strike."

Carlos leaned back in his chair, his hands resting behind his head. "Seems pretty straight forward. How hard could it be?"

"What's T-ALOS?" asked Sheva, pulling out a detailed piece of paper from her file and looking at Barry.

"We're not sure. The handout in your packets isn't too detailed about it. Intel had been trying to decode messages encrypted that referenced T-ALOS. We don't know if it's a bioweapon or another strain of Las Plagas. From what we know, it seemed like it never made it to the table and that it had been cast aside after a while. Uroburos is our number one priority. If any agents come across T-ALOS during the mission, all information is to be retrieved and brought back to the base. Specs of the Russian facility are in the files in front of you. I'll see you all bright and early tomorrow."

The room was filled the resounding sound of "Yes, Sir" before agents left for quarters at the top of the building for reconnaissance and rest.

* * *

It was near midnight at the BSAA Headquarters Los Angeles branch. The city seemed to be finally putting its inhabitants to rest, the residents of the HQ facility seemingly the only source of life within the massive buildings settled on desolate streets.

"Taking the M-16 again?" asked Chris, approaching her from behind.

Sheva smiled. "I actually prefer the Desert Eagle. With the M-16 I always feel like I'm wasting ammo," she said, her fingers running delicately across the cold metal. They were all readying themselves for tomorrows trek into the unknown. "You?"

"Shotgun. I prefer my weapons to pack a bit more of a punch." He came to stand near her.

"I noticed." She looked up at him, hazel eyes sparkling and for a moment he felt at ease. They packed in silence, their attentions solely on their weapons, despite the noise coming from the other occupants of the Arms Room.

"It'll be different this time," Chris said knowingly.

How did he do that? Sometimes she felt like they were joined by just more than survival. How could someone she barely knew look at her and seem to know exactly what she was feeling? "You don't know that, Chris."

How could he? When she volunteered to be his guide during the mission to Kijuju, she had never expected to get caught up in the most frightening fight for her life. It was supposed to be a straightforward mission; she was just supposed to be his guide. But it turned into so much more after that; she didn't want another Kijuju incident on her hands. She was still reeling from what happened in Africa.

"We're prepared this time, for what might be there. We know Uroburos. It's everyone else that I'm worried about."

"Is Jill going?"

Chris shrugged. "I don't know. Barry called her in for some questioning."

Sheva gathered up her holsters before grabbing ammo for her handgun and newly acquired weapon. She secured them in her bag before turning her back to the silver table and leaning against the desk. Her thoughts were wondering. She had never in her life felt so much apprehension about a mission. Ever. But now she was so damn scared and she was so sore from the past few days that she didn't even think she could survive another trek across the world, let alone a dangerous one.

Her eyes were settled on a spot on the wall, her thoughts racing. She hadn't seen Chris put down his rifle or him inch nearer to him, but she did feel the warming sensation as his fingertips brushed against her wrist, calling her attention toward him.

"I won't let anything happen to you," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. It was a sweet gesture and his gaze was firm. Maybe he wouldn't let anything happen to her, but at what price? She didn't want to lose him either.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," she said simply, her eyes falling to the ground.

"I don't."

He moved a step closer to her so that her chest was parallel to his. She looked up to find his face inches away from her, staring at her lips in fervent anticipation. Chris was finding it nearly impossible to keep his distance from her. She looked so troubled and sad and beautiful, he wanted to pull her into him and hold her, to feel his mouth wrestling with hers, to lock her away and complete this mission without his partner, so that he wouldn't have constantly be worried about her safety. She would distract him tomorrow and he knew it. It was the reason he always forbade Claire from going on missions. She worked intelligence and was a back up field agent, if necessary. If she was in the field with him, it would be impossible for him to concentrate on the task at hand.

He had never really worried about Jill in the same way. He knew Sheva and Claire were strong and capable. He had seen them both in action many times before. But it was different with them. Jill was his partner, his friend, a purely platonic relationship that had its share of affection. But Sheva, she was…he couldn't describe it. From the moment he met her he knew something was there. Despite the walls that he had built around himself, she had managed to penetrate his hard exterior. She was charming, beautiful, intelligent and her accent, whenever she talked it drove him crazy. In his younger days he would have called out their relationship for what is worth. He knew, in a sense, how she felt about him. What she wanted. How could he not? He wanted it too.

Timing, however, was everything. And he couldn't, not now. She was staring at him with those eyes again. Despite his efforts to keep his body parts to himself, his fingers found her face and before he knew it he had caressed her cheeks softly. She closed her eyes and her lips parted and he hoped it was an open invitation. When he made no move to embrace her, she opened her eyes and understanding shined behind her orbs. They had a war to fight and maybe, just maybe, if things worked out they could have…something.

She leaned in towards him, letting her lips pucker against his cheek. He felt a warmness surge through him as he stood erect, unmoving as she kissed him. "Good night, Chris." He felt coldness as she walked away, her hips swaying as if they were mocking him, showing him what he was missing out on. He breathed heavily. The room had cleared out by then and no one had seen their encounter. It didn't matter if they did. If he died tomorrow, nothing would have come of it anyway.

He sighed, rubbing his palm against his stubble before packing his weapons and trekking back to his quarters, dark with sad musings and solitude.

* * *

She whimpered in her sleep, her arms moving and pushing against empty matter. Her blonde hair was askew, her pale skin shiny with a damp layer of sweat as she writhed in her sleep. Even in her state of rest, she could feel his mouth on hers, his hands ripping her clothes, grabbing and squeezing her breast.

The air was warm and humid and she could see the tall trees where they swayed beyond the marshlands. Her mind was begging, screaming for him to stop, but her body, controlled by the pulsing egg on her chest was yearning for him to touch her where she needed it most.

He entered her in one fell swoop and she cried out as he pushed into her over and over again. Pleasure was overcoming her inner thoughts of disgust as he plunged into her, murmuring her name, his red eyes locking onto her clear blue ones. She hated herself so much, she was dirty and filthy and used. He had been inside of her, touched her in a way that so many hadn't.

She had climaxed around him so many times, her quivering walls milking every last bit from him as he released inside of her. The memories of him touching her, fucking her, they never went away. Even in death, or whatever purgartory he was laying low in, he still had a hold over her.

She was unclean, a leper, a disease. If she told Chris, he would cry rape and tell her that it wasn't her fault, that she shouldn't blame herself and then he would get terrifyingly angry in a way only Chris could. But what bothered her the most about her frequent encounters with Wesker, was that when they were together in the most ancient of ways, it had felt good and she had liked it.

And the thought of how he set her body on fire on those secret nights, made her feel as though she were condemned to a fate worse than hell. That she would take a secret so abhorrent to her grave. A secret that she knew could never be forgiven. Because she would never be able to forgive herself.

* * *

A/N: Please review


	3. Chapter 3: Asphyxia

Chapter 3

Asphyxia

A/N: It took a long time for me to update, but let me know what you think. This chapter is dedicated to Ms. Chif (because she PM'd me and told me to update.) Hope you all enjoy and as always, please review.

* * *

She stumbled over the rocky surface, cobwebs and dust obscuring her vision as the white beam of light before her illuminated her path. Sheva could distinctively hear the footsteps of her companions in the darkness and rarely heard the grunt of someone who had fallen over the debris scattered around the large, dome shaped room. They had been exploring Site B of the derelict Umbrella Facility for almost two hours now and had found a steaming pile of nothing. No Uroburos, no T-ALOS, just rats nests and spider webs. She was beginning to believe that intel was a bust, that the information given to them was some sort of decoy, meant to keep them occupied while some nefarious activity was happening outside of these crumbling walls. But the world was quiet on all fronts, and in silence, Bravo team began its descent deeper into the valley of abandoned test tubes and dry syringes.

Handgun raised and ready she continued walking, her eyes squinting in the darkness as she explored the chambers, searching old, dusty notebooks and file cabinets, for something, anything that could justify this trip around the world that was turning out to be a colossal waste of time. Removing the flashlight from its attachment at the top of her handgun, she gripped it, and shined it over the steel table that she accidently kneed in the darkness. Flicking through the papers, she found letterheads, grocery lists, trivial words written by scientists that had lived and worked here. She sighed, irritated, readjusted her mouthpiece and continued on, trekking through the darkness.

"_Bravo Team Leader to Agent Alomar, report," said Drew Paxton._

"Sector seven is empty sir, nothing to report," Sheva said, tilting her neck to the side, glancing around the room.

"_Copy that. All agents rendezvous back at sector three. Agent Watson found a hidden door in the southeast corner of the room. Let's check it out."_

"Copy that, sir. On my way," Sheva said before raising her gun and jogging into the distance. Her rubber boots were padding noisily against the ground as she traced the wall with her hands, her memory leading her back to the dingy corridor that had lead her to sector seven.

Her breath was coming in short bursts, anticipation riding her like an angry ghost. Perhaps this was it, maybe they would finally find something, and the anxiety that was chewing at her would finally disappear. They would find T-ALOS, Uroburos, anything, and get the hell out of here. She turned another corridor, her gun raised in front of her, before sprinting toward the door before her, kicking it open and shielding her eyes as her body was bathed in glorious light.

She had been walking in complete darkness for nearly half an hour, and had forgotten that sector three was a type of atrium, and was the only room that retained back up power and lighting. There she spotted Paxton, resting against a pillar near Agent Miller, a pretty red head with a dirty mouth and Agent Watson, a burly black man with doe brown eyes and a tattoo that nearly took up his entire right arm.

Agents Xiu and Wilson were wiping the dirt of their guns and Agent Morris was picking dust granules out of her long blonde hair. None of them seemed thrilled to be here. This was Bravo team; rescue fucking heroes.

"Everyone here?" drawled Drew, scratching the back of his neck before the collective _yes sirs_ rang through building. "Good. Agent Watson, lead the way."

"Copy that," Watson said, his voice deep and echoing.

They filed in line, one after the other, Sheva following up the rear, just behind Agent Xiu. She watched intently as Agent Watson fired his M-16 on the handle and raised his massive leg, impaling the lock and bursting through the door before Paxton, Miller and Morris scrambled in, their guns raised at the ready to attack.

"Clear," cried Morris, looking back and signaling for the rest of the team to follow. They filed in steadily, their footsteps a stable cacophony of bruising rubber against ceramic tile, the sound of stomping echoing off of the barren white walls.

They ran down the narrow corridors, occasionally turning a steep right, a sharp left. They had no idea where they were going, but by the tilt of the floors, this path was leading them downwards, directly into the belly of the beast.

* * *

The lights were blinding; so bright that they were almost burning his retinas. The room itself had to be damn near one hundred degrees, and every member of Alpha team was sweating like a whore in church. Chris readjusted the neck of his climate controlled top and wiped his brow, distinctively wondering what Bravo Team was finding in Site B and if it was as hot as fuck where they were too. He wiped his face, the stubble on his chin brushing almost painfully against his fingers that were black with caked sweat and dirt.

Hours into it and they had found nothing. Everyone was tired, on edge; they had seen footage of some of the infected in Africa and everyone seemed scared shitless that somebody doped on Wesker's Jesus Juice was going to break through the walls and make a meal out of them. Everyone except for him and Kennedy of course. They were the pillars of consistency, of bravery, of cold determination.

"What exactly did they expect us to find here?" asked Leon, coming up behind Chris, wiping the sweat from his brow. The brunette turned to him and stifled a laugh. Kennedy looked like a drowned rat. Served him right for his 90's haircut; you had to know the man to believe he was actually as good as everyone said. He looked more like he belonged on the Santa Monica pier than one of the commanders of Alpha Team and liaison to the President of the United States.

Chris snorted. "I don't know. Probably a big ass box in the middle of the floor labeled Uroburos. It's never as easy as they say it'll be."

"Still doesn't explain why it's so fucking hot in here," said Carlos, smoothing his dark ponytail back and wiping the palms of his hands against his army fatigues.

"Or so bright," said Jill, looking glum. Her white hair was shining under the light in a heavenly sort of way; but her eyes, it was her eyes that creeped Chris the fuck out. They were an icy blue, pale and empty. He had seen plenty of sets of eyes like hers many times, right before he had put a bullet in the middle of their fucking head.

"We need to keep moving," said Chris, signaling for Rebecca and Billy to keep close behind them.

They continued in silence, their pace slow from sheer exhaustion; they were sweating too much to keep a quick pace. If they did, they'd be out cold before they knew it. After following the white path deeper into the recesses of Site A they reached a steel door, bolted and sealed.

"Coen, time to break out the hardware," said Leon, running his hands through his streaked locks.

Billy smirked before removing from his utility a belt a small device that was akin to a spider, with eight legs and all. The agents backed away from the door, turning their backs to the ex-marine as he placed the bomb and set the charge.

"Hold on to your butts," Carlos mumbled as Jill rolled her eyes.

"That's from Jurassic Park," she said.

"I know. Seems pretty fitting to say though. Our backs are faced to that thing, if the charge is too strong, our asses are going to go first," Carlos mused.

Chris smirked at the logic. From his peripheral he watched as Billy set the charge, sprinted toward him and immediately covered Rebecca with his own body.

Shutting his eyes, Chris' body tensed as the countdown began and flinched when the charge blew, sending a wave of fiery heat towards them. The sound was a deafening blast that burned his ears and he distinctly felt his ass cheeks singe. Or maybe he imagined the latter. Leave it to Carlos to put stupid fucking ideas in his mind.

They waited patiently as the smoke settled before turning around to face the damage. The door was blown cleanly off, leaving an opening in the wall so huge that even Jabba the Hut wouldn't have a problem dragging his fat ass inside.

"Come on, let's take a gander at what's inside," said Leon, raising his weapon and entering the room, followed by Chris.

Silently they stepped in, the six of them gasping at the pristine brilliance of the circular room. The walls were a pale white, fitted with steel plates. There was a large window northwest of them and a huge circular base above them. There were no other doors, no passages, no escape.

"You've got be fucking kidding me!" yelled Carlos. "We trek through Death fucking Valley all for a dead end." He yelled, throwing his arms up in frustration.

He was about to turn to leave when two makeshift steel plates slammed behind him, causing the entire team to spin around quickly. The opening that had welcomed them into the room had shut behind them. Sealing their only way back to the corridor and out of this room.

"Billy, you got anymore charges?" Chris asked, pulling out his shotgun and loading it quickly. He had a bad feeling that something big was about to happen in this room.

"Plenty." He moved toward the door, pulling a charge from his utility belt when the sound of an explosion erupted behind them. The floor shifted under their feet and they all turned around quickly to find a dual set of rocket launchers aiming their way.

* * *

The floor shook above them, pieces of rubble and plaster falling from the ceiling like hail in a snowstorm. Sheva quickly covered her eyes. After what felt like forever, their descent through the darkened passage ways had emptied into a room, covered in stone carving and cobblestone paths. There were tubes of water resting on multiple sides of the room, and the flooring itself seemed to be floating on top of a manmade lake.

Squinting in thought, Sheva quickly pulled out digital schematics of the building plans, tracing upon it the direction they had been running. An idea quickly dawned on her. "If I didn't know any better I would say we were directly under Site A."

Paxton looked at her quickly before running to her side. "An unmapped sector in the floor plans. This could be where they were hiding Uroburos."

They all looked around silently. The room was completely empty; no crates, no barrels, no file cabinets or safes to pick; it was a humongous room full of hollow space.

The floor shook again, more rubble falling to the surface of the lake, coating the water with flecks of pepper. "Something's going on up there," said agent Miller, her emerald eyes shining with fear. "If we're under Site A, than Alpha team may be right above us."

Straining their ears, they all distinctly heard gunfire, yelling and what sounded like a cannon going off above them. Looking to the ceiling they watched in awe as the rock surface above them split, a jagged rip tearing through the ceiling, moving from the northeast corner to the south. The floor sagged slightly before halting and panic struck in their minds.

On one accord they ran toward the hole where they entered, only to watch in horror as a steel door descended quickly from the sky, like the blade of a guillotine swooping down upon the condemned. They stopped quickly, their feet skidding across the stone surface, teetering upon the edge of the lake that lay before them.

"We're trapped and the ceiling's going to collapse on us!" yelled Agent Xiu, running his hands through his jet black hair as he ran towards the outskirts of the room, banging on the walls, searching frantically for an exit. They were trapped beneath crumbling surface as gunshots and explosions rang in their ears.

Sheva gripped her chest , closing her eyes and willing the beat of her heart to steady. This was it, there was no escape; they were going to drown or be crushed down here. And if Alpha Team was really waging a war above them, eventually they would fall too and bodies of the fallen soldiers would come to mix in the chilly waters below.

For a moment there was silence, eyes meeting eyes, lips parting, eyes closing as each soldier realized their fate. The roof was crumbling faster, bending and breaking; Sheva's breath was loud in her ears, her lips dry, her throat parched. A sudden explosion, finite and deafening, rang around them as the stony structure finally gave way and the floor collapsed above them.

She was still and silent as the rock and rubble poured from the manmade sky, bright lights and white steel melding with the earthiness of the room surrounding them. Barely could she make out moving figures, jumping, ducking, running for cover both above her and beside her. She was too shaken to move, to resolute to dodge. In the corner of her eye she saw Wilson's body fall, the weight of a stone crushing him easily like a fly being crushed by the hands of God, blood spewing from his corpse and coating the ground a dirty red, lumpy with organs and innards.

Her eyes rose again, locking on to the navy blues of her partner, of her friend, of the man that she longed for but ultimately would never have. His arms were flailing, his eyes wild with concern; he was gesturing, trying to send her a message, trying to save her from harm. But as her mind wrapped around his message, it was far too late. Suddenly she felt the blunt impact of something crash into her body so hard and that air was thrust from her lungs. The weight pressed her backwards until she fell into the freezing water, the load on her chest pushing her into the depths of the lake, until her back roughly hit rock and the metal plate, a broken claw of steel and wire had fused her to the ground locking her with his grip, entombing her into the rocky seabed as the light from the surface of the water reflected brilliantly against her eyes as she drowned.

It was a heavy pain, unbearable and unyielding as her mind screamed for her to breath. She struggled against the hand that bound her, moving and twisting as water threatened to rush into her lungs. Suddenly she felt hands against her, warm hands, strong and calloused. She looked into his eyes, blue and scared, as he signaled for her to exhale.

Immediately she did and tensed as she felt his lips press against her own breathing into her life giving air before ascending to the surface. She stayed conscious as bodies swam for her; she could see Leon's blonde head nearing her, floating, his hair dancing like silken strands against the tide. She faintly recalled an episode of Aquaman and mused that he looked just like sonar spouting super hero.

She was clearly dying.

His hands gripped the claw above, holding still as Coen sawed the metal in half. The pressure of the hands against her, the fear of the blade so close to her chest forced her to exhale, sending a searing pain into her chest as water floated into her lungs and the world went black, the buzzing sound of the metal against metal fading from her ears.

* * *

Chris Redfield had never been so scared in his life. He had faced death too many times to count and had seen a lot of fucked up shit, but this…this was different.

She was dying.

His compressions were precise; steady hands crossed over her heart as he pressed down…eight…nine…ten….he removed his hands from her, tilted her neck, breathed into her mouth. Once, twice, no response.

"God damn it, Sheva, don't do this," he whispered, his hands moving back to her chest. Everyone seemed to be watching him. Leon was at his side, Jill behind him, Carlos staring off into space, Rebecca clenching a broken wrist, Billy behind her.

Most of Bravo team was dead. Only Paxton, Miller and Xiu remained, the rest had either drowned or been impaled by various pieces of T-ALOS or rock.

He continued again, pumping her chest. What was this? The second of third round of chest compressions? He couldn't remember. He couldn't stop.

He felt a soft hand on his shoulder. "Chris. You can't…she's gone." It was Jill. He shrugged her hand off his shoulder; she wasn't gone.

He continued…five…six…seven…removed his hands from her body and exhaled into her mouth once, twice, her chest heaved, he pulled back as she vomited water to the side, her eyes fluttering, cinnamon hazel meeting navy blue.

He pulled her into his arms, breathing heavily and she sputtered and coughed beneath him. Leon let out a sigh of relief; Jill was genuinely shocked.

Sheva looked to him, her lips parted. "Chris?"

"I'm here," he said, cradling her and lifting her into the air, his bloody arm protesting. "I've got you. Stay with me Shev, we're going home."

She felt her body swaying as he carried her from the room and she briefly caught sight of the destruction, of body parts of both man and machine, littered across the floor in horrific design.

Her eyes fluttered close, the back of her head throbbing as unconsciousness pulled at her mind. Before falling into the darkness, she briefly confirmed what others had thought before their departure.

_This was a trap._

* * *

He watched her quietly, the room silent except for the beeping machines that sat idly in the corner of the otherwise sterile hospital room. She had been asleep like this for the last five hours. She had a severe contusion, a couple of bruised ribs…but otherwise none the worse for wear. She was alive and safe, and that was all that mattered.

Uroburos had been a bust. There was nothing there, nothing they could find anyway and if it were, it was at the bottom of that lake, along with the rest of the Umbrella facility.

He heard the door click open, the gentle tapping of shoes before a small hand came to rest on his shoulder. "How is she?" Jill asked, her eyes falling to where Chris and Sheva's hands were joined. The thought unnerved her to no end.

Chris shrugged. "They think she'll be okay. They need to wait till she's conscious for the MRI. They want to make sure she doesn't have cerebral edema."

Jill smiled. "Lucky we got there just in time. Kind of makes you think it was a set up."

Chris frowned. "Of course it was a set up. Somebody tipped intel, I'd bet my badge on it. Somebody who knows how we work. Casing the place by teams, guessing an agent would find the hidden sector beneath Site A. Somebody knew we'd fight T-ALOS and that we'd win."

"You think someone was trying to handicap us? By taking out Bravo and Alpha team."

"Yeah. I don't think they anticipated many us surviving. If T-ALOS couldn't kill us them the impending fall would. Did you look at the schematics intel just drew up? That room was built to collapse. To fall into the water below and sink. It seems like it wasn't just meant to sink us, but to cover up whatever shit was going on there if someone were to investigate."

Jill smirked. "Well looks like Russia has its own little version of Atlantis now."

Chris frowned. "I think this is bigger than a random Umbrella employee who's got a thing against the BSAA. Someone who knows our style did this. Somebody with a plan wrapped inside of a plan. The only person I know who thinks like that, is Wesker."

The blonde immediately paled at his name, the beating of her heart painful against her ribcage. "He's dead, Chris."

"Is he?" He was thoughtful.

"Of course he is!" yelled Jill, her loudness jerking the sleeping brunette awake.

Instantly Sheva's eyes fluttered opened and she blinked accordingly, her eyes adjusting to the light. Jill looked to Chris, noting the anxious expression on his face and turned away. Quietly she backed away from the duo, assuming that they needed privacy and fearing the conversation between them.

Sheva looked up to him before smiling gently. "My hero."

"Are you okay?" he asked, pulling the covers around her and letting his fingers brush against her cheek.

"I am," she said softly, her throat sore. "Because of you."

"I had help."

"Yeah. Remind me to thank Billy and Leon. How's the team?"

"Shaken up. Watson, Morris and Wilson are dead."

Sheva sighed. "What about Alpha team?"

"A few cuts and bruises. Nothing we can't handle."

"What happened up there?"

Chris smirked. "Turns out T-ALOS is a code name for a bio-weapon. Nasty mother fucker too. Rocket launchers, missiles attached, you name, he had it. All in all, could have been worse."

"Could have been better too," Sheva smiled, looking up at him and bringing his hand to her lips, and puckering against it. His eyes were on hers, hooded, cloudy; she couldn't tell what he was thinking. "I guess you were true on your word. I got out of there alive. Because of you."

"I like to keep the promises that I make," Chris said, tightening his grip around her hand.

"I guess it's time for the big fat I told you so."

"Not quite," he said, leaning over, letting his lips brush against hers, an electric shock shooting from his mouth through his entire body. She sighed against his lips as he kissed her, his movements gentle and precise.

Her eyes fluttered when he moved away. "I'm not complaining, but that wasn't quite the reaction I was anticipating." She paused. "I guess it's an appropriate response, considering I didn't exactly keep secret the way I felt about you. Did you always know?"

Chris chuckled. "A little. I sort of knew…how you felt….after the plane ride home. And then, with what happened yesterday in the armory."

"Guess, I'm not too subtle."

"I guess I'm not either."

Chris sighed before pulling back. "I'm not the easiest person to be in a relationship with. I haven't been in one for a long time. I didn't want to rush things with you. But when you fell, when you almost died in my arms…I guess that's when everything changed. You and I aren't lucky enough to be in the line of work where we can put things off. I didn't want you to die without knowing exactly how I feel about you."

"And how do you feel about me?" she asked, sitting up and leaning against the headboard of the hospital bed so that she was facing him.

He smirked before looking at her. "The sun rises and sets in your eyes," he said simply. "I care about you more than you know, more than I've ever cared about anyone other in Claire in a long time. Scares the hell out of me, considering I barely know you. But I want you. I want to know you. I want to know everything about you. I want to memorize every part of your body." He paused. "After tonight, I can't go back to just being your partner. To just being you friend."

Sheva grinned brightly and it was the most beautiful smile Christopher Redfield had ever seen. Gently he leaned in and kissed her forehead before standing up. "Get some rest. I've got a debriefing and then we head back to the states tonight. You're up and running and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Will you come back?" she asked, tilting her head cutely to the side.

"Nothing will keep me away from you."

He watched for a moment before exiting the room, his cheeks hurting like a bitch from smiling so hard. He hadn't felt like this in a long time. You know the feeling; like the world is made of fucking candy and you're a diabetic kid who just got a new lease on life.

As great as the feeling was, he needed to focus on other things. Mostly because that nagging feeling that Wesker was still alive was even more prevalent than ever, especially after tonight. But Chris was resolute, he would find the bastard this time, put a stop to it, and make sure he was dead.

For the first time in a long time, Chris Redfield actually had something to fight for.

And she was waiting for him in a hospital bed.


	4. Chapter 4: Progeny

Chapter 4

Progeny

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A/N: Hi all, another chapter. Thanks for the reviews and please let me know what you think of this chapter. Thanks

* * *

There were two things that Sheva Alomar recently learned about Christopher Redfield; one, was that looks could be deceiving. When she had first encountered him in the African desert, she thought he was too big, too mean looking and too cocky. But underneath all of that muscle and tan expanse of skin, beat the heart of one of the nicest, most loyal men she had ever come to know. Despite the fact that they were both BSAA agents, highly skilled and trained in weaponry and hand to hand combat, Chris had taken to being her protector during their mission. He had pushed her out of the way in Kijuju when they were attacked by gun wielding, motorcycling hordes of the infected. He had pulled her close to him when the pus sack of tentacles that used to be Excella Gionne attacked them on the ship. And when she fell into the water, he dove in after her, pulled her back to the surface and resuscitated her back to life.

The second thing she'd learned about Chris Redfield, was that he was the most affectionate man she had ever met. He had probably shown her more sincere warmth in the last twelve hours than some of her previous boyfriends did after months. As soon as he was done with the debriefing in Russia, he returned to her hospital bed, pushed her bangs out of her eyes and kissed her forehead. He remained there, by her side, until she was discharged and escorted to the plane waiting outside to take them back to Los Angeles.

Now, several hours later, she found herself splayed against his couch, an X-Box controller in her hands, a tall glass of lemonade sweating on the wooden coffee table. The man that was consuming her thoughts at the moment was sitting beside her, frowning at the television.

"I can't believe you're pouting," she said, reclining on the sofa and turning to face him.

"I'm not pouting."

"Of course you're not. Apparently you're not use to losing."

"I didn't lose. Halo isn't a competition, you know."

"I know, but ever since you found out that I'm a Brigadier, you've been pretty…"

"Pretty what?" he asked, setting his controller down and looking at her, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"You know, just because you're only a Colonel and I'm a Brigadier Grade 4, that doesn't mean I'm a better player than you."

His eyebrow arched. "Obviously it doesn't, you only got like three kills this match anyway." He shrugged.

Now _she_ pouted. "I happen to be on pain medication, Chris. I think my ranking says for itself what kind of player I am."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"Wait 'till the Vicodin wears off and then you _will_ see it."

"That's a loaded statement if I ever heard one," he said, inching closer towards her and grabbing her by the ankle. He pulled her gently around on the couch until she was laying down, her back sinking into the comfortable leather. "Don't tease me, Sheva."

"Who's teasing?" He came to hover above her, his head dipping down as he kissed her collarbone, his mouth warm and hot against her neck. "Apparently you are." Her voice was breathy and hitched with budding desire. He nuzzled her neck before letting his lips dance across her own, his kiss open mouthed, tender, alluring.

He parted from her reluctantly. She was still relatively injured from her fall, and the last thing she needed was 250 pounds of muscle fucking the crap out of her on the couch. That would have to wait; they had just begun tentatively dating anyway and having sex so soon could possibly ruin what was forming between them. If Chris had his way there would be plenty of time to get down and dirty later. Besides, there were other things on his mind right now. Ever since they had returned from Russia, Jill had been acting differently towards him, towards them all. She was stiff and pensive on the ride home and when he tried to get her to open up to him about it, she recoiled from him, yelled in his face and stomped away. Acting out wasn't like her and it was really starting to piss him off.

His body twitched to life when he felt Sheva's hands on his thigh and he turned to look at the woman beside him, watching with hooded eyes as she climbed towards him and straddled his lap. Her hands came around his neck, tiny fingers flicking the soft hairs that lay peppered across the back of his neck. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Sheva wasn't stupid, he had been sweet and attentive to her, but there had been something recently in his eyes that she couldn't quite place. She had seen that look before, when they first met. He had been warring within himself, debating on whether he should let her in, if he should be a cold, calculating, efficient partner, or the friend that she would need once their mission truly started.

Chris wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into him. "I don't know…something's wrong with Jill. She seemed, different, even more bothered by something on the way home. I don't know…I still feel like she's shutting me out."

Sheva frowned. "You were pretty adamant about Wesker still being alive Chris. You weren't exactly silent about the matter. Jill was stuck with him for years…I just think the thought of him lingering out there got to her. She went through some stuff, I'm sure there are things that happened out there that she just doesn't want to talk about. Maybe it's too hard for her."

* * *

She stumbled, crumbled and fell onto her knees, her fingers wrapping around the porcelain bowl as she heaved. Amber liquid, hot and thick spilled from her mouth, burning her throat as she wretched, the pressure of the rising bile painful in her throat. Tears had formed against her eyes, tiny puddles of salty liquid and black eyeliner. Her hands trembled against the toilet bowl as another violent spasm ripped through her. She lurched again as her stomach emptied its contents into the depths of the bowl. She coughed, sputtered, and wiped damp blonde strands from her sweaty forehead before resting against the cold tile floor. She reached for a towel and wiped her mouth, wiped the tears that had fallen down her cheeks from the pain of it all.

This was third time she had vomited in the last twelve hours and her throat was becoming rawer from the effort. She gripped her stomach, willing the nausea away as fatigue set in. Her knees felt weak, wobbly, her entire body was trembling as she leaned against pristine white walls of the master bathroom in the apartment she was renting.

What bothered Jill most, wasn't the actual vomiting, it was the reasoning behind the abhorrent sickness that frightened her. She thought back, during her time with Wesker, and vaguely recalled feeling queasy, tired…but she had assumed it was a side effect of the control that he had on her. But what was more terrifying, was the lingering awareness that she hadn't had her period in months. She remembered Wesker kept her locked away whenever she menstruated. The combination of raging hormones and chemical injections made her violent and immutable, her bloodlust even too concentrated for him to control.

But Wesker had never mentioned attempting to stop the flow and the nights that they had spent together, the nights that he had taken her against her will…could this be the outcome? Her hands shook, realization slamming into her with painful force. She trembled, tears pooling beneath closed eyes. She gripped the white shirt that hung loosely against her body, her mouth opening as a painful wail escaped her lips.

She couldn't be. She just couldn't be. She sat quietly, her icy blue eyes focusing on the vanity lights, her vision obscured by hot tears. Jill rose to her feet, heavy legs leading her as she jerked toward the living room, stumbled into her shoes and grabbed her purse and keys from the kitchen counter. She walked forward towards the door, towards the busy streets, soiled with bodies and automobiles as she hailed a cab. She needed to know if Wesker's lust for her had evolved into more than just broken dreams and hidden tears. She needed to know tonight.

* * *

Chris sat the phone down, the plastic and metal device clinking onto the table with a gentle thud. Jill was ignoring his phone calls again. This was the fourth time he had called her in the last few hours to check on her. Either she wasn't near her phone or she was definitely screening her calls. Either way, she was making it obvious that she didn't want to be bothered and for now, he would leave her alone.

He glanced around the dark apartment, his eyes falling upon the sleeping form of Sheva Alomar resting against his leather sofa. He smiled; she looked awfully cute and peaceful. He would have never thought that the woman lying on the couch, breathing softly with her lips slightly parted was as tough as he knew she was. He smirked to himself; he had never expected to go to Africa, find Jill and bring back someone as special as Sheva. It seemed like life had bigger plans for him sometimes than even he could imagine.

He neared her sleeping figure and stared at her for a moment before scooping the brunette into his arms and carrying her into his bedroom. He laid her on the bed gently before hovering above her, debating on whether he should undress her now and put her to bed or let her wake up and undress herself later. She had taken her pain medication not too long ago and he figured she would sleep for the remainder of the night anyway.

He reached down to the dark denim jeans, his hands fumbling over the button before unhooking it and pulling down the zipper of her pants to reveal colorful underwear with the word PINK scribbled in cotton candy fuchsia over the center of her panties. He peeled the jeans from her legs, admiring her thighs under the light as he completely removed her pants. He ignored the urge to run his hands down her honey colored, muscular thighs as a pang of desire shot though him, his most sensitive areas springing to life. He surmised that her tight fitting t-shirt was more than appropriate for her sleep in. Besides, he would probably spring a leak if he undressed her to the point of near nudity. It was hard enough for him to not touch her now.

Instead he lifted the covers over her body and tucked her beneath the sheets before pulling off his shirt and jeans and crawling into bed beside her. He leaned in near her, his lips brushing against her forehead, his body responding to the scent of her feminine aroma. Lazily he draped his arm across her abdomen and closed his eyes, musing on how he could get used to waking up like this next to her every day, his heart warming at the thought.

* * *

He swayed, wet spittle dripping from the inside of his cheek, passing through chapped lips onto his chin past his neck, staining the concrete a dark grey. His mind was screaming, begging for him to turn around, to remove the pulsing device from his chest, to take off the belt that kept the bomb secure around his stomach.

Angry tears gathered in his eyes as his feet moved themselves on their own accord, the red irises that were once brown hidden by a pair of black Rayban's. He clutched the small metal box in his hands as he trudged forward, his footsteps heavy, painful against the white tile. Breathing heavily, Agent Xiu watched as friends, comrades, and partners saluted him with smiles and verbal announcements. He ached inside, knowing what he was about to do, knowing that he could do absolutely nothing to stop it.

He rounded another corner, stumbled across the ground, regained his bearings, continued. He came closer to the cafeteria, the clinging of forks and spoons loud against his ears, the sounds of talking and laughing arrowing his heart in such painful intensity that he thought he would collapse from the sheer agony of it.

But he pressed on, until the double doors slid open before him, eyes full of laughter meeting plastic lenses as he stepped into the busy room.

"Hey, Xiu, what's in the box?" asked a tall blonde man, his muscular arms pressed across his chest as he stared at the agent in curiosity.

"Man, you look like the terminator with those glasses on," said another agent, a middle aged woman with half moon reading glasses perched over her face.

The woman jolted as the trembling operative let out a controlled wail, tears streaming down his face, little droplets emerging like streaks of rain from his black glasses.

The blonde sat rigidly, stunned at his friend's emission as another agent neared closer to the weeping agent. "John, what the hell's wrong with you?"

The Asian man shrieked again before setting the box down on the ground and kicking it under the table. His hand jerked forward as shaky fingers gripped the plastic and yanked, removing the glasses from his face, red eyes glowing beneath the ceiling lights. The crowd cried out, bodies backing away from the twitching soldier.

Xiu reached for the coat that hugged his waist tightly, ripped it open to expose the pulsating egg on his neck and a blinking bomb attached to his waist. With a shrill scream he detonated the bomb, silence resounding in his ears seconds before the explosion erupted, blasting a whole out of the back of the building, a blinding flare of fire and heat consuming the walls and every person housed within them.

* * *

Jill sat against the toilet seat, her form slumping over as she held the small stick in her hands. Her eyes were wide, empty. She rubbed her nose, the smell of the gas station bathroom making her feel more nauseous than she already did.

She laughed, a hollow, guttural chortle passing her lips at the insanity of it all. For most of her adult life she had fought against everything that Wesker represented. And now…to know that she was carrying _his_ child…she was laughing to keep the tears from coming. She wanted to think that it was a mistake, that it was a false positive, that the pink little plus sign in the window of the handheld test meant nothing, that it was wrong. But deep inside, she had known it was true the minute she saw it. She clutched her stomach, her fingers brushing against the lower region where her baby lay.

She looked to the window, to the door and contemplated ending it all. The blonde entertained the idea until a deafening blast shook her from her musings. She rose instinctively and peaked out of the small bathroom window to see smoke rising out of the heart of downtown Los Angeles and she knew in her heart of hearts, that something terrible had just happened.

Things would never be the same.


	5. Chapter 5: Ashes and Wine

Chapter 5

Ashes and Wine

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A/N: So new update, this chapter is dedicated to LanieB, because I really like your stories and you update as quickly as I wish I could. Hope you all enjoy and please review.

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The blast rocked him awake, his body rising quickly from the soft material beneath him, his hand instinctively reaching for the 9mm handgun that lay hidden in his bedside table. He flinched slightly, looking around wildly to see where the noise had come from, his eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness that was flooding his bedroom.

Sheva lay still against the mattress, her body stiff and rigid, her eyes widening as she watched the rays of orange flames illuminate the sky a sickly red. Chris looked down to her and caught her line of vision, craned his neck to find the source of her terror and immediately jumped out of bed towards the sliding door that led to the balcony. Trembling fingers and twitchy hands gripped the wooden handle of the door, the sweat of his palms slipping against the lumber as he tugged it forward and emerged into the night, the somber and pungent odor of burning metal invading his nose and sending his mind into a panic. He leaned closely to the ledge, his eyes squinting, his body flushing with anxiety as his mind raced to process what was happening. That was the BSAA headquarters.

He was sure of it.

He felt a small hand collide with his damp back and turned to look into the shock and worried face of his counterpart. She blinked quickly, the horror on her face matching the horror within as she watched another blast of light burst forth into the sky, the black smoke billowing out of the building looming and angry.

"You don't think that's-"

"I'm sure of it," he said, his voice cracking when suddenly a terrifying thought flashed through his mind. _Claire_. She often stayed late into the night down at headquarters, working intel, drinking coffee and sharing stories with fellow staff members. But tonight they were all so tired he was sure, positive that Claire had headed home when the rest of them did.

He didn't want to wait to find out.

Quickly he lunged for his phone, thanking God for whoever invented speed dial. His hands were shaking so hard that he was sure he wouldn't have been able to dial her number on his own accord.

_Come on, Claire, pick up. Please. _He waited silently, praying that she was home, safely nestled away in her apartment, watching afar as the unyielding flock of flame danced across the dusky sky.

"_Chris_?" asked Claire, the sound of her voice over the phone sending his frenzied mind back into control mode. If anything, he needed to sound calm for her sake.

"Are you alright? Where are you?"

"_At Rebecca and Billy's, we were watching a movie and I fell asleep here, and then…then…we heard the explosion and woke up. What do we do? What are we supposed to do? That's the BSAA building, Chris, I know it is." _Her voice was riddled with panic.

"Stay calm, I can hear sirens, I'm sure help is on the way, just…come to my place, Sheva is here, we'll go to the branch together. Have you heard from anyone else?

"_Billy is here too, Carlos and Kevin just called him, we haven't heard from Leon, Barry or Jill."_

Chris sighed. "I'll call them, you just concentrate on safely getting here and we'll handle things once we get to the branch."

"Okay, okay."

"Look, be careful okay, the BSAA is obviously under attack and right now we don't have a suspect or a motive so just…be careful okay."

"You too, big brother. I'll be over in a second. Love you."

"Love you, too," he said, before pressing the end dial and leaning against the railing. He looked to his left to see Sheva staring opened mouth at the smoke and debris that was rising from the burning ashes of the tall complex.

This moment, standing from afar watching the sky turn black with cinder reminded her so much of a childhood she wanted to forget. She felt eight again, playing in the garden with her friends as the sound of a vociferous discharge blew, the high pitched wail of a bomb going off followed by the booming sound of the factory collapsing upon itself.

She remembered the look of fear on Tunde's face, her dark brown eyes going wide as she let out a wail and ran toward the factory, her little brown legs pumping as fast as they could. And Sheva sat there and watched, her hands filthy with mud, the seed of a sunflower held tightly between her tiny fingers, her heart pounding so fast that it reminded her of the drums she would hear during nightly celebrations before Umbrella changed her life forever.

Still she sat there, sinking further into the ground, mentally calling for Tunde to come back, to stop running toward the fire, because something was terribly, terribly wrong. She shuddered, still remembering the gunshot that blew off the side of her little friends face, the suited man in a black uniform pulling the trigger of the rifle again, riddling bullets into the tiny frame of the little dead girl until chunks of her flesh were missing. And she watched, wide eyed, hot tears falling down her face, warm mud squelching between little fingers, until she felt the strong arms of a man scoop her into his arms and carry her into the house, little brown eyes set on the pulpy body of her friend, festering beneath and angry African sun…

"Sheva, we should go." His voice was tender. He touched her and pulled her into him, the firmness of his chest comforting against her cheek.

She was shaking so hard and the look on her face…even after everything that they had seen, he had never seen her features so full of…anguish. He wanted to know what she was thinking, wanted to comfort her, wanted to take her pain away, but they didn't have time. Claire would be here any minute and they would have to begin the long trek into the heart of the city, silently dreading what they would find.

* * *

"_The president's coming in,"_ Leon said over the receiver, his voice gruff. _"They're sealing the area off, looking for suspects. Take Third Street. They'll want agents on hand. We _should_ be able to get in. Barry is on his way."_

"Have you heard from Jill? We can't get in contact with her," Claire said, her voice echoing through the bluetooth device Chris had set up in his Tundra.

"_No. Barry said he tried calling her but no answer. I doubt she was at the building though. She's on leave until…until they can determine if she's fit for duty. There's no reason for her to be there."_

"Well that still doesn't explain where the hell she is," said Chris, looking into the mirror and frowning. Sheva hadn't said a word since they started their journey towards HQ.

"_I know, Barry will keep trying. You three just concentrate on getting to HQ safely and in a timely manner. Billy and Rebecca are picking up Kevin and Yoko and Barry, myself and Carlos are in route. We need to figure out what the hell happened down there and then we'll worry about tracking down Jill."_

"Copy that," said Chris, clicking off the device and turning a corner. The air was thick with smoke and between sirens blaring in the distance and the sound of blood rushing in his ears, it was difficult to keep control of the wheel. His mind was racing…there were _so_ many possible suspects. The BSAA had pissed a lot of people off over the years. At this point, their list of suspects was a mile long and they had no evidence to start from.

Claire glanced to him and then to Sheva. She turned around in her seat, her long auburn ponytail being tossed onto her side as she placed a gentle hand on the younger woman's knee.

"You okay, Sheva?"

The brunette turned to face Claire, her skin pale, her eyes bleary. She smiled weakly. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

She didn't sound fine, they were all shell shocked by what was happening, but Sheva, she was in this sort of painful stupor that was leaving her blank and mute. His eyes kept falling onto her as he maneuvered through the busy streets when suddenly a thought hit him. _Sheva's parents were killed in an explosion_. She told him about it briefly after they were attacked by Ndesu, the rest he had read about in her file. He sighed to himself, another life Umbrella completely fucked up.

"Look," said Claire, pointing towards the end of Third Street where HAZMAT teams were exiting a truck, a police blockade set up behind the east side of the building, furthest away from where the explosion had occurred.

Chris pulled to where the officers were standing and rolled down the window, reaching for his badge.

"This area is closed off, turn around and get out of here," said the cop, his eyes falling from Chris, up to the building and back again. He looked terrified.

Chris flashed his badge. "We're with the BSAA, we need to get inside there ASAP."

The young officer nodded before signaling for the other cops to remove the blockade. Chris nodded a thank you and drove past the busy officers before parking his car on the side of the road. Quickly the trio moved toward the gathering of agents underneath an awning that had been set up to keep some of the falling debris away from threatening the workers trying to clean up this mess.

The stench of scorching wood and glass was so strong in the air that Chris had to cover his eyes mostly to keep them from watering. Even from the far side of the building, the flames that were still crackling on the surface of the support structure were unbearably hot. He was sweating in the forest green t-shirt he was wearing.

"SWAT just entered to check for anymore potential discharges and HAZMAT and a public safety team are determining the structural integrity of the building," said Leon as the three of them approached. "As of now, none of us are allowed into the building until it's determined to be safe. We can't know how many people were in HQ until we can reach one of the computers and we won't have access to the security footage until we can locate the backup system in one of the computers mainframes. For right now, it's a waiting game."

The large group of agents nodded in response before turning to gaze up at the building. There had to be at least thirty people standing out there. Was that all that was left of them? Not even including intel, there were at least a hundred agents that worked collectively in the office. Had this attack taken so many of them out of commission?

"Any word from Jill?" asked Claire.

Leon sighed. "No, and Barry is MIA. They pulled him to the side, HAZMAT originally recovered what they thought was a bomb, but it ended up because some sort of fireproof safe. It was the only thing that wasn't charred in the cafeteria."

"So whoever did this left us a parting gift then," said Chris, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

"Yeah, and the bomb was detonated from within the cafeteria. There was a witness; Miller was on her way out right before it happened. FBI is questioning her over there in that truck. She was the only one present who lived to tell the tale."

"They think she's a suspect?" asked Kevin, tossing his hair from his eyes.

"No, not now they don't. For the record I think she's clean. Wrong place, wrong time," said Leon.

Silently they waited in the distance, watching as the ground was bombarded with falling ashes and occasional mist as the small planes doused the building with water from above. The fire seemed mostly contained, now all that was left to do was pick up the pieces of this disaster, and to make whoever did this pay with their lives.

Chris watched as Barry sauntered over towards him, a pale and tired look on his face, his eyes wide with shock. He was sweating and breathing hard, and by the look on his face, he looked as though he were on the verge of vomiting.

"Hey Barry what-"

"Where's Jill?" he asked, interrupting Carlos and looking around for her.

"We don't know, we haven't made contact," said Chris.

"Shit! We have to find her!" Barry yelled rubbing his hands forcefully over his stubble.

"Look, we're pretty sure Jill wasn't in there when all of this happened-"

"That's not the problem. We have to find her before they do," Barry said, looking to his right at the FBI who were converging in the corner of the street, whispering quietly amongst themselves.

"Why? What the hell's going on?" Carlos asked.

"They…they want to question her," Barry said, his voice low. "They think…she had something to do with this."

"WHAT?" cried Chris, his body tensing.

"Lower your voice. I'm not supposed to be telling you this," Barry said, glancing over his shoulder. "She might have…she might have helped plan this attack, with Wesker."

"Even if she did she wasn't acting on her own accord. I'm sure FBI read the incident report. They know how Sheva and I found her."

"Well what I saw seemed pretty…convincing…" said Barry trailing off.

"Chris is right," said Sheva, finally breaking away from her stupor. "Jill tried breaking free of the control when Wesker pitted her against us. But that thing on her chest…she couldn't stop herself from acting on his whims."

"Yeah, well the Jill I saw didn't have anything on her chest," said Barry looking disgusted.

"It wasn't noticeable to Sheva and I until she pulled her combat suit open."

"Well…in what I saw…Jill wasn't wearing _anything_," muttered Barry his eyes falling to the ground.

Carlos' mouth dropped open. "What exactly did you see?"

Barry sighed. "In the safe that FBI found in there, was a disc. When we popped it into the computer we got old footage of Jill, Wesker, Gionne and Irving planning various attacks all over the world, this one included. But we also…there were other _things_…on that disk too," Barry said.

"Such as?" asked Leon.

"Evidence that leads them to believe that she was acting on her own accord, video of her killing and torturing Uroburos victims without the controlling device on her chest and footage of her…_fraternizing_…with Wesker." Barry pinched the bridge of his nose.

"What the fuck do you mean by fratern…." Carlos paused. His mouth agape with concern. "You got to be kidding me. You all were watching a _sex tape _in there!"

Barry rolled his eyes. "It wasn't a sex tape, and would you lower your voice. Whoever dropped that little present off in there was specifically looking to implicate Jill in all of this. And it's working…FBI's not buying that she was under some sort of chemical control. Especially after what they saw in there. Now we need to find Jill and take her somewhere where they can't find her, at least until we can clear her name. And we need to find her soon, because by the way they're talking they're going to take her into custody for terrorist threats and activity against the US, among other things. If we don't find her and prove that none of this is true…I don't know what will happen to her." Barry said. "It'll be completely out of our hands."


End file.
